


Love/Consequences/Serenity

by BawdyBean



Series: The Life and Times of Eskel, Witcher [5]
Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM Scene, Dom/sub, M/M, Mentions of Eskel/Rhys, Mentions of Geralt/Duncan, Missing Scene, Orgasm Denial, Playing with jealousy, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior, itty bitty slutty Geralt feeling, porn with the plot in another fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdyBean/pseuds/BawdyBean
Summary: Geralt talks Eskel into playing with Duncan and Rhys in Novigrad, with the understanding that they will play with Eskel's possessive side afterward for some hot jealous sex later. This is what happens after they get cleaned up, talk about their new relationship status, meet the orks for dumplings and return to the Ruby Room at the Rosemary & Thyme.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Series: The Life and Times of Eskel, Witcher [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1435780
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31
Collections: Discord Community Archive





	Love/Consequences/Serenity

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Orkish Delight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695814) by [BawdyBean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdyBean/pseuds/BawdyBean), [bookscorpion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/pseuds/bookscorpion). 



> Title from John Coltrane's First Meditation 
> 
> This work is an addendum to Orkish Delight a Shadowrun Witcher crossover I write with bookscorpion, however it can beread alone as pure smut. It is set in the same universe and my longfic Finding Center, towards the end of that fic.

“I saw ’em when we bathed ya’know.” Eskel’s voice low in his ear makes a tingling shiver run up Geralt’s spine and he tries not to tighten up in Eskel’s hold at the thought of what is coming. “He bruised you, left a handprint on your ass.”

Taking a deep breath Geralt holds it, starts to let it out but it catches in his throat when Eskel sets his teeth over the bite Duncan gave him on his shoulder, lightly pressing into it. “He _bit_ you. And you _liked_ it. Don’t lie to me.”

The air rolls out of Geralt finally in a deep groan. “Fuck. Yes, I did Eskel.”

“What else did he do to you?” Eskel demands, arms locked around Geralt’s waist from behind.

There is no escape and Geralt’s mind spins with the memories of everything Duncan did to him. Took from him. He won’t tell Eskel everything. Can’t. But he won’t lie either. “Everything. He took everything. Touched me everywhere. Cuffed my wrists in metal. Clamped my nipples. Used my mouth, and my ass.” Groaning softly, knowing Eskel will make him pay, Geralt admits it all. “He came in my ass, I couldn’t stop him.”

One of Eskel’s hands comes up to roughly pinch Geralt’s nipple through the linen of his shirt and it _hurts_. It’s still incredibly tender from Duncan’s clamps last night. “Couldn’t stop him? Or wouldn’t? C’mon, Geralt, you’re a witcher, you could’ve done somethin’.” 

The whine rising in Geralt’s throat is pathetic and pained. “Please. I couldn’t.”

“You let him use you, like a common whore.” Eskel lets go of his nipple only to crank his head back by his hair, pulling a needy breathless sound out of Geralt. “An’ we both know you’re not. You’re _MINE_.” The last word is a growl coming out of Eskel, deep and possessive. It makes Geralt’s legs feel weak and he stumbles when Eskel shoves him toward the bed with a hand to his back. “Strip.”

Geralt swallows hotly, not quite daring to look back at Eskel yet, as he begins to undress. Every layer that comes off will reveal more marks he begged Duncan to give him. Lifting his shirt over his head, Geralt groans softly at the way it bends his shoulder. The bite still aches and he loves it. 

Mindful that Eskel is watching Geralt pushes it away and sets his shirt on a wooden chair nearby. Bending down he removes first one boot and then the other, setting them to the side. Taking a deep breath Geralt’s hands settle on the laces to his leathers. The barest hesitation holds them steady for a moment.

“What’er you waiting for?” It’s low and harsh behind him when Eskel asks the question, and Geralt knows he can’t avoid this. Unlacing and lowering his leathers past his hips with his braies, Geralt feels hot all over.

Jumping at the ghost of Eskel’s hand over the print of Duncan’s on his ass cheek, Geralt comes back to himself. He’d never even heard Eskel step up to him. Geralt lets his leathers fall to his knees. Stepping out of them leaves them in a pile on the floor and, bending down to retrieve them put his ass precariously on display in air for Eskel to see.

A calloused hand grips Geralt’s ass hard, taking his breath away. “You let him have this.”

“I didn’t. He too-” Geralt tries to protest but Eskel’s hand lands over Duncan’s print hard and fast, leaving a searing heat of its own.

“I don’ wanna hear it.” Eskel squeezes the hot skin where he smacked Geralt’s ass. “Turn around for me. Lemme see what’s mine.” 

Heart tripping over itself Geralt turns slowly around toward Eskel, head down, fingers itching to wrap himself in a hug. He doesn’t take the risk of angering Eskel just to comfort himself though. Eskel is right, he’d let Duncan have it, all he can do now is endure Eskel’s possessive scrutiny, admit the truth, and beg for forgiveness. Everything that happens now, he’s earned.

Breath flowing in and out of his lungs rapidly, Geralt’s senses are overwhelmed with the sounds of the room. The soft creak of the floor as Eskel shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Eskel’s slow exhalations as he no doubt takes in each fast fading bruise and bite—there are so many. The muted sounds of Novigrad as the night wears on outside the windows.

Biting his lip Geralt takes in a breath and holds it tight to keep from making any noises when Eskel’s finger and thumb play over a sore nipple. Still rosy in comparison to his pale chest around it. The pinch and pull threaten to tug a hoarse cry free but Geralt manages to keep it in. He’s earned this, he reminds himself. He’s freely given away what is Eskel’s.

Eskel’s warm hand trails up from Geralt’s nipple to his chin. Cups his cheek softly and Geralt can't resist turning his face into it the slightest bit. Seeking a small comfort there. Forgiveness. 

Fingers underneath his jaw and thumb resting against his chin, Eskel tilts Geralt's face up to look at his eyes. "You jus' can't help yourself can you?" Its both a question and a statement Geralt thinks.

“I… No, I can’t.” Geralt blinks his eyes rapidly, wishing he could avoid Eskel’s all consuming gaze. “Please…” His voice sounds meek and watery even to himself, “…help me? I want to be yours again, Eskel.”

Long moments tick by in silence while Eskel just stares into his eyes. Chin held firmly, Duncan’s words echo in Geralt’s mind like a fever dream. "I don't think you can just be nice to him and be forgiven, do you?" And Gods, what if it’s true? What if Eskel doesn’t want him back now that he’s used and been handed back. What if all he can do is run back to Duncan, begging?

“I think you let him fuck you, jus’ to get me riled up like this.” The calm stillness in Eskel’s voice catches Geralt off guard in his thoughts. No longer angry, almost pitying. Eskel’s breath caresses his jaw, then his ear, down his neck. Geralt gasps, breath straining in his throat when Eskel bites his neck with no warning. The truth mixing with the fantasy and coiling warm in Geralt’s gut.

A hand snakes between Geralt’s legs while he’s still swimming with the pressure of the teeth on his neck. It circles his balls and squeezes them almost too painfully tight. He feels small, so small standing there in Eskel’s hold. In an utterly different way than Duncan makes him feel small. He feels _powerless_.

A shudder racks Geralt’s body and Eskel lets go with his teeth, licking softly over the dents he surely left there. “I’ll help you, Geralt. Shh, I’ll help you.” Eskel’s voice is soothing him, low and silky in his ear. It’s only then that Geralt realizes he’s hyperventilating. One hand still gripping his balls painfully tight, Eskel’s other hand traces a barely there line down his spine in time with each breath as Geralt tries to get it under control again. “Tha’s it. Doin’ good for me. Tha’s it, breathe through it.”

“Shh. Breathe through the pain.” Geralt’s breath pours out of him, every last bit of it until he feels empty again, and Eskel lets go of his balls. They ache. And even though he hasn’t been given permission Geralt lays his head against Eskel’s shoulder.

“You can have me, anything you want of me, I’m yours.” His breath is steady now, and the words come easy. He wants Eskel to take his pleasure, from his body. Doesn’t care if he gets any in return.

“I know.” Eskel’s lips turn up against Geralt’s neck, then kiss over the tender bite he’s left there. “You’ve always been mine. Some ork can’t change that.” The fingers trailing down his spine continue lower this time, dipping between the cheeks of his ass, and Eskel’s fingers unerringly finds his pucker. It’s as tender as everything else on him, and Geralt fights his body not to squirm when Eskel rubs over it, dipping the tip inside and tugging at the rim. “Even if he takes this.”

Geralt moans at the memory that floods him suddenly, of Duncan crouched over him, rutting into him without any mercy.

Eskel’s body presses him backwards, his steps forcing Geralt to go with him until the back of his knees hit the bed. A hand to his chest shoves him down. “Spread your legs for me. You acted like a whore for him, you can do it for me too.”

The words sing through Geralt’s body and he bites his lip to hold in a moan, grabbing his ankles and displaying himself for Eskel. He’s rewarded with a satisfied grunt. “Fuck, look at that pretty hole. It’s gonna be all mine again.”

Somewhere inside his head, Geralt knows he should probably find showing himself off like this mortifying. The sheer exposure of his body in this position alone should make him nervous but it doesn’t. Not when it’s with someone he loves and trusts. All it does is make him want more. More of Eskel’s rough talk, more of Eskel’s hands on his body claiming it for his own.

There is a clink and scrape drawing Geralt from his mind again. Eskel pushes one of his legs down and to the side, into the mattress. Presses a vial of oil into Geralt’s now free hand, and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, resting some of his weight on Geralt’s leg, holding it back for him.

“Wanna watch you. Open yourself up for me. Show me what’s _mine_.” The last word is a growl again and Geralt whimpers at it. The vial is cold in his hand, and Geralt grips it hard, anticipating the oil’s chill on his skin.

Thumbing the cork out Geralt bites back a noise as he spills a small amount over his balls, down along his hole, lewdly on view, bringing it back up to dribble more over the skin above it. It startles him slightly when Eskel takes it out of his hand. Glancing over he sees Eskel pouring the rest over his thick cock, casting the empty glass vial aside and running his hand up and down his length.

It mesmerizing and Geralt has no idea when Eskel took his pants off. His mouth waters at the thought of Eskel’s cock in his throat, defenseless pucker winking at the idea of Eskel pushing into it.

“If you want me, you better’d get yourself ready.” Eskel’s hand is still sliding over his shaft and Geralt moans at the idea, ass clenching. Fingers travelling down Geralt rolls them over his entrance, spreading the slickness of the oil everywhere. Massaging himself, and glorying in the slight soreness that Duncan’s rough fucking has left him with.

Gripping his ankle hard Geralt throws his head back and closes his eyes at the first finger slipping in. “Did I tell you you could close your eyes? Look at me while you touch yourself.” Eskel voice is rough, gravelly, and wanton.

Eyes flashing open, Geralt’s head lolls on the bed towards Eskel. Wetting his lips with his tongue he pushes himself further, faster, harder. Another finger, pumping in and out with the first. Scissoring them, stretching himself open he wonders what Eskel sees of him. Everything. Eskel always sees everything.

Geralt keens high and helpless when a third finger joins his two. Eskel pushing in beside his and fucking into him in time with his own thrusts. Everything is oily and slick, hands sliding around each other. Eskel crooks his finger to graze over Geralt’s prostate and drag an almost pained noise from him.

In a second Eskel is over him. Pressing his body flush over Geralt’s, swallowing his cries as he prods Geralt’s prostate again. Kissing him with no more mercy that his hand grants Geralt and Geralt wants to come. 

Tears forming at the corners of his eyes, Geralt blinks them away. Breathless, Geralt turns his head away from Eskel’s ravaging kiss. “Please. Please, Eskel, I _need_ to come. Please let me-”

A knee is planted on either side of his hips and his hands are grasped and pinned above his head. Geralt tries to beg again. “Ple-”

“No.” Eskel’s cock breaches him and Geralt gulps like a fish on dry land. It sinks all the way to the hilt in one breathless thrust. Eskel kisses him again, long and hard. Lets him up for air, which Geralt greedily sucks in, before being swallowed in another kiss.

It becomes a rhythm, Geralt holding the air in his lungs through Eskel’s long kisses and deep pounding thrusts, then it all rushing out and sucking in a new breath before Eskel starts again. It drives Geralt higher, the way it controls him. The way Eskel guides him into the pace of breathing he wants Geralt to use. And once he’s found it, Geralt keeps it.

Eskel’s hand sinks into his ponytail, now in complete disarray. “You already came with Duncan. This is only for me. Prove to me your still mine.”

The whimper those words elicit from Geralt is filled with both pleasure and regret. Regret at the knowledge that there will be no release for him tonight. Pleasure at the chance to prove himself to Eskel again. To show Eskel he is _sorry_ for giving himself away so easily. To earn back his place. All he has to do it wait. 

Ride out Eskel’s pleasure while holding back his own.

Eskel rolls his hips methodically. Cock plunging into Geralt with a dangerously erotic rhythm. Geralt bites his lip, presses his fingernails into his palms, thinks about waterhags. Everything he can do to stave himself off while Eskel lets go. Hips picking up speed, breathing heavy, and lips dragging aimlessly over Geralt’s neck and chest as he seeks his release.

And when Eskel finds it, he spills his come hot and almost soothing inside Geralt’s ass. Geralt’s cock jerks hard at the sensation, but he’s able to hold himself off. Even through Eskel’s last few finishing thrusts, leisurely and disjointed, chasing the dregs of his pleasure.

“Fuck. I love you, Geralt.” Eskel is up claiming his lips, releasing Geralt’s trapped hands from above his head and scooping him up to turn him and lay him on the bed properly. “That was so good.” The kiss to his neck is tender now, no bite and lips soft as silk.

“Oh Gods. You’ll be the death of me.” Geralt allows Eskel to wrap him up in the covers, then curls his way into Eskel’s arms.

There is a gentle low laugh. “You can wait one day. It won’t kill you.” Eskel kisses Geralt’s forehead. “You want a drink?”

“You’re a bastard and you like it. No. I want you to hold me. Tell me I’m good.” Geralt buries his nose in Eskel’s neck. It was all play but he does want to hear, from Eskel, that he is good. That Eskel really still wants him back.

“‘M a bastard, an’ _you_ like it.” The arms around him squeeze impossibly tighter, threatening his breath for a moment. Eskel’s hand finds the leather in his hair and pulls it the rest of the way out, before sinking in to scratch at Geralt’s scalp. 

“You’re always good for me, Geralt. I’ll always want you. Even if you want Duncan, too.” There is a pause and Eskel’s lips find Geralt’s again, soft this time. Undemanding. Inviting Geralt to take his own taste. “Even if I want Rhys, I’ll always love you. ‘M not jealous of Duncan for real like I thought I’d be. ‘S fun to play with ‘s all.”

Eskel leans forward and places the softest kiss over Duncan’s bite. Groaning at the touch Geralt exhales sharply. “You’re keepin’ it. I saw you pour Swallow on all the others, but not this one.” Holding his breath in silence Geralt waits. “An’ it doesn’t bother me. I think he’s good for you. Give’s you things I can’t an’ keeps you safe.” 

Geralt’s breath runs away from him in a rush. “Yeah.”

Pulling back to look Eskel in the face, Geralt is surprised by the calm he sees there. Eskel smiles at him softly. “I love seeing you so happy. It makes me happy. An’ I think we deserve a chance at this happiness.” 

Blindsided by emotion, Geralt has to close his eyes hard against the pressure behind his eyes. “Thank you.” He curls right back up into Eskel, buries his head in the crook of Eskel’s neck again and mumbles, “For always loving me for who I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to let me know what you think! I love to hear from my readers.
> 
> ~BBean


End file.
